Archive for November, 2007|Monthly archive page

Maybe there’s these lee-tle legs

Wednesday, November 28th, 2007

sliding-rockSliding Rocks of Racetrack Playa

Somehow, on an essentially flat and arid plain, rocks of several hundred pounds are moving. They leave snail trails where they’ve been.

Scientists are trying to pin it on the wind, but I bet you that Mulder would have come up with a different explanation.

Bones and Booth, sitting in a tree…

Wednesday, November 28th, 2007

well, it was mistletoe, but w00t!

Holy grasshopper in a tutu, I love that show.

Road to somewhere

Tuesday, November 27th, 2007

My Dad and I were talking about old times on the weekend, and he said that when we left up north to move south, they were in a van, and I was seated on a milk crate on the floor in between them.

This would have been about 1970, and I can see a young couple (she 20 and he 24), probably hipped out with peroxide blonde and chops, and a 3 year-old little blond thing, driving down a road, no idea what was coming but going somewhere…

Take, don’t ask?

Monday, November 26th, 2007

In two books I read back to back recently, there was a female character in a “happy” marriage who sleeps with a rougher man because she feels like is that all there is? A husband who listens to her and gives her flowers now and again and with whom she has a routine of life and relations – regular sex, shared tv shows, discussions about the news over toast in the morning.

Each woman comes “alive” (actual word used by the authors) with these other men. The sex is rough, and they want to be mounted, to be f*cked, really. At odds with their good woman existence, they respond sexually to men who come at them, who harbour thoughts of hurting, or even killing, them.

It’s a nasty business discussing the ravish fantasy. Good, liberated women aren’t supposed to ever go there. But I know more than one who wants to be taken once in a while, to feel like the man in front of her wants her so badly that he might not let his ego get in the way of his id. Interesting enough, in both novels, the women give up their careers (or plan to) to be with the dirty men. The narrative evolution doesn’t seem to be to the point where she finds a bit on the side and continues with her own life. Surrender must be outside and inside the bedroom.

I wonder if this is becoming normalized? Is it a fantasy of a generation of women who can earn their own keep to submit? But since it’s not okay (in society) to admit to it, it’s expressed as sexual liberation?

This isn’t discussion one has in “polite” company, but it’s discussion that’s been done at girl’s nights and in ladies’ washrooms and in blog entries that don’t see the light of day. But it’s not a no-means-yes thing, more like a take-don’t-ask thing, provided that you are the man or woman that a particular woman wants to be ravished by.

I can understand how enlightened men end up so confused. Respect a woman, ask, think of her and be content to have a regular life, when really there’s a whole other narrative going on in which you are vilified for your hesitancy or your niceties.

I’m not really sure where I’m going with this, other than to say that I noticed it, and then to ponder if this is women being honest, being selfish or being screwed up.

My father is a bad influence on me

Sunday, November 25th, 2007

This weekend was another reno weekend. My Dad arrived Friday morning, and we got started on installing a new window in my kitchen. Because we went from 3 small windows to one big one, we had to cut out the separators and such. And did I mention that we hit a cold snap? As with all of our adventures, this seemingly straight-forward task required us to remove all manner of power tools, a break, shims, insulation, screws, foam and whatnot from his truck. It’s a bit like a clown-car at the circus, cuz I have no idea how he fits it all in there.

After freezing our tushkas off, we decided to move back indoors and prepped to put in a new wire from the box, across the basement ceiling and up between the kitchen/living room walls for the above-stove microwave. I also had to do a lot of cleaning up in the kitchen from the window fun. Oh, and there was our ubiquitous trip to the hardware store somewhere in there, where I introduced him to the wonders of the laundry sock.

Anyway, I managed to steer him clear of the junk food for dinner that night, opting instead for soup and sandwich. We did have tea and cookies for dessert, which he followed up with some Rolos :)

Saturday morning was about -15 Celsius, and the winds were about 50 km/h. Perfect weather to be outside capping windows. All told, we were out there for a few hours (we had to cap the new kitchen window as well as the bathroom window that he put in a few months ago). I got to cut the spray foam to size, but then I was relegated to stomping around to ward off frostbite and picking up little pieces of aluminum as he trimmed up the trim. My neighbours, understandably, paused to stare at us as they hurried from their warm houses to their warm cars, half-blind from the biting wind coming around the corner. Like I said, perfect weather. In the end, I couldn’t feel my toes.

For lunch we had Timmie’s chili, which, on top of the bean soup from the night before, was setting up for some familial gassiness that I’d rather not be a part of. Heeding doctor’s orders to “cut back on the pie”, my Dad opted for a maple-glaze doughnut to go with. I, of course, had Smarties :)

Then it was wiring time. For the first time, evar, it went rather smoothly. There was an empty line of holes in the beams for us to string the wire through, and the place where we had to fish it up between the walls was an open cavity – natch. The plug-in was done fairly quickly and then we had to get the mounting plate up for the microwave, which also was done fairly quickly. They give you these patterns that you tape on the wall, so you drill the right places and microwave’s your uncle, or something like that. There was a moment where I was balancing the microwave on my head while he figured out how to snap it in place. I kept thinking how people elsewhere do this with big vats of water, so I should keep a stiff upper lip.

More cleaning after that, and then my usual allergy attack, allergy pill taking and allergy hangover nap. After which Melle dropped by and we had take-out chicken and fries (so, not good on that one).

After dinner, it was more cookies and tea, and more chocolate for him (but at least it’s not PIE). Melle got to witness a “Mike rant”, wherein my father gives forth on what he thinks about Mike Holmes – I like the expletives! Whatever you do, do NOT mention the garage episode (!@#!$# custom windows in a garage! !$@#!# digging four feet down for the footings! @!$#@$#! cemented the whole damn driveway!!). Just walk away, slowly.

We also found time to map out my kitchen updates, and a new bathroom for upstairs (taking over the current closets), and a reno for the bathroom on the main floor. I’ve said “no more windows” until the temperature outside is somewhere above the range that would hurt a brass monkey.

So here’s the bad influence: usually, after my Dad leaves, I’m content to collapse in a heap on the couch and read for a bit, or otherwise reassert my right to do absolutely nothing for hours at a time. After my Dad left today? I did the dishes, cleaned up some more and cleaned out the gutters! The gutters! wtf?

Here’s a little before and after. The before is outside, and the after is inside, only because it’s November and it gets dark now at, like 3 o’clock in the afternoon. I’ll take an outside shot should I ever see the sun again – it really changes the look of the house. I like the mullions.

Old Kitchen Window

New Kitchen Window

Happy Thanksgiving, Merkans!

Thursday, November 22nd, 2007

Eat much, laugh much, and stay away from jello that has ANYTHING in it (like marshmallows, vegetables, lego blocks…)


Tuesday, November 20th, 2007

I’m watching The Vampire Angel on youtube, where effulgent12 took the time to present a chronology of Angel in a series of 22 clips (very cool, if you follow the Master).

I’m also watching Bones, and Booth was just walking into a mausoleum with Hodgins and he read out some Latin and Hodgins asked him how he knew.

In my head, I said cuz he’s a vampire and was around when they still taught Latin, dummy.


Suspicious meme

Tuesday, November 20th, 2007

5 things of which I am suspicious.

  1. Overly cheerful people. Could be god people. Anyone who goes around chirpy probably has a drinking habit or a fetish that they don’t want you to know about. Either that or they’re tragically naive.
  2. Gas. As in the kind that your furnace uses. It’s odorless and tasteless if we didn’t put additives in it, and it can kill you. It comes into your house in little pipes with joints and it can’t be so hard for the joints to fail.
  3. “Easy to assemble” furniture. I’m convinced that there is an international conspiracy against capitalist nations being carried out via allen keys.
  4. The “high” setting on a car heater/air conditioner. For some reason, I think that if you run the car heater or air conditioner on high, you’ll short out the computers or blow up the transmission or something.
  5. Cooked pineapple. That’s just wrong.

from Schmutzie

I’ve SO been there…

Monday, November 19th, 2007

Tino and Dutchie fall off the wagon again

Kitty Hangover

Courtesy of Cute Overload

All you need is love, …boas, kilts, interpretive dance and kisses

Sunday, November 18th, 2007

to have one of the best weddings evar.

We got a ride in a disco coach complete with rounded leather seats and neon rainbow track lights to the hall. The guests were attired in all manner of festive dress, including bridesmaid’s dresses (from other weddings), tuxes, tails, kilts & boas, spangles, bangles, silk and creme brule (a hat, I kid you not).

After some mingling and introductions, it was off to the wedding cabaret. Think of your traditional wedding ceremony. So, it was something like that, except there was a stage and some wonderful divas belting out songs about love, and trivia contests for chocolate, and readings from Microserfs and poems about being uncomfortable in the Bay lingerie area, and a dancer stripping down to her “shaper” underwear, and the brothermaids in their kilts and feather boas duking it out “Millionaire” style, some salacious & bawdy stories, and interpretive dance to Total Eclipse of the Heart, and the singing of Oh, Canada, and lovely heartfelt vows wherein Kate and Rosemary became lawfully wedded spouses.

Plus, due to a legally binding contract from the brothermaids during their “welcome to the family” speeches, I got the chance to look up not one, but two kilts. New rule: men should be made to wear kilts at all special occasions. (All the better for twirling on the dancefloor – delightful!)

Plenty of fun on the dancefloor where it was anything goes. The Queens/brides had time to have a drink and talk with everyone and be gracious and laugh and enjoy the day, as it should be on your wedding day. The whole place was a big funfest love-in.

The Vows

Thanks, Kate and Rose, for inviting me to your special day.